


The Important Middle

by LadyDrace



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Deafness/Hard of Hearing, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, POV Clint, POV Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4600734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's there, in the pitch blackness, that Clint finally gets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Important Middle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catiemo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catiemo/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for [Catie](http://bullwinklewinchester.tumblr.com/). HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVELY! :D
> 
> Unbetaed, sorry. Feel free to point out any mistakes. :)

There's a very special kind of ease to working with Nat. At this point it's mostly experience, but even when they had their first missions together, they had a way of automatically syncing up. Everyone Clint has ever worked with through SHIELD have known about his hearing aid, mostly in case of unforeseen circumstances that might remove him from it.

 

But Nat is the only one who ever seemed to consider that he spent most of his life not being able to hear, and that his first instinct will always be to look first and listen after. She always looks for his eyes.

 

It's probably why he fell so hard for her.

 

Everyone falls for Black Widow. It's like some kind of newbie requirement. If you're into women (and sometimes even if you aren't) you'll gaze heart-eyes at her for a while when first meeting her. Clint struggles to fathom how she can handle it with such good grace when it's clearly annoying and disruptive.

 

But she has her own disability. She has to put on a mask. She simply can't help it. And, usually, the infatuation fades once the people nursing them realize that they've simply fallen for one mask in a long row of such.

 

Clint never was very good at letting things go. He even picks up his fully funded SHIELD arrows after firing them, for fuck's sake. So he never gave up on her.

 

The beauty about communicating silently is that it's simple. Sign language and combat signals are short and to the point for a reason, so everything has to be boiled down to their most important points. So even when Nat is talking, mostly for the benefit of the people on the other end of the line, she's always giving Clint signals. And those... those he knows how to read. They show him more of the real her than anything else ever did. And it only makes her more dear to him.

 

They're in a pitch dark air-duct, waiting silently for the signal to move on. Clint can hear the whirring of the fans, the creaks and groans of the old building, and even a few vermin here and there. The surface of the duct is cold against his chest and elbow where he's propped up, and Nat is a long warmth next to him.

 

His eyes are closed, because what's the point. It's too dark anyway. But even in the blackness, Nat talks to him. They can't actually speak, because if they do they'll definitely be discovered. But her gloved fingers are tapping into his palm, keeping them connected. It's nothing important. At least, not to an outside observer. But Clint knows this rhythm. It's a lullaby. One she admitted to liking, once, a long time ago, before they even joined SHILED. It's possible she assumes he doesn't recognize it, but that seems like a mistake she would never make.

 

It's a long wait in the dark, dragging on and on and on, and Nat just keeps tapping out the same rhythm again and again. Clint feels uneasy, lack of sight having always been even more unnerving to him because he depended so much on his eyes. But Nat's tapping is grounding, and he suddenly realizes why she chose this particular tune.

 

She knows he's feeling vulnerable, and she's showing a tender spot of her own in sympathy.

 

He knows she won't welcome any declarations or demonstrations of affection here during a mission. She's too dedicated to her work for that.

 

But that doesn't change how his heart flip-flops in his chest, because this is the point where he realizes that she's been meeting him in the middle for a long time, and he's simply been too blind to see. Ironic, coming from a deaf man.

 

Of course she notices the change in his breathing, and possibly even his pulse, her fingers losing their pace on his palm. He answers with a quick squeeze of his hand around her fingers, and forces himself to focus on the mission.

 

It's a realization for later, anyway.

 

After the mission and the debriefing and all the bureaucracy of working for a mostly government funded facility, Clint finds her. There's a shared look, a cautious smile and an open door. Her face is still not hers, but that's alright. He knows her voice.

 

He meets her in the middle.

 

End.

 


End file.
